[“You’re always like this, always siding with him and never with me…”]

Yan Lin saw Hou Zihao again at the entrance of the police station. The last time they met was seven years ago, at the wake of his mother, Zhang Chunyan.

In fact, even seven years ago, people in the city rarely held traditional wakes anymore. However, since Zhang Chunyan’s family lived in a rural area and her home with Yan Hai had been forcibly demolished, she had nowhere else to go after death but to return to her maiden home. Naturally, the funeral followed rural customs.

To be honest, Yan Lin’s memory of that period was already quite hazy. Even when he personally experienced everything seven years ago, his mind had been in a daze. He felt as though his father’s disability and his mother’s death were just cruel jokes fate had played on him. That summer had been too surreal, even more so than all the poverty and squalor he had endured in his previous eighteen years.

He had helped the relatives from his mother’s side, whom he barely knew, with the funeral arrangements. His mind was so scattered that he couldn’t even shed tears during the mourning rituals. His relatives whispered behind his back, saying that this boy who couldn’t even cry was unfilial, that he must have come to take revenge from a past life, and that perhaps his parents’ misfortunes were all due to his bad luck.

He pretended not to hear them, wandering out of the low, humble rural house during a break from keeping vigil. When he looked up, he saw Hou Zihao standing outside the yard.

It was late June, shortly after their class had returned from their graduation trip. He had just learned about what happened to his family and rushed to this modest wake straight from the airport.

When they met again, everything had changed. They had both suddenly become adults overnight, and their gazes toward each other had grown heavy, no longer as carefree as when they sat together in their senior year of high school or as joyful as when they went to the internet café on Fridays. The adult world was full of debts and burdens that they now had to shoulder separately.

“Yan Lin…”

He called his name but seemed unsure of what to say next—was he trying to apologize? If so, why didn’t he just say “I’m sorry”? Did he feel that those three simple words weren’t enough to account for a life and a leg?

What happened afterward?

Yan Lin couldn’t quite remember. He thought he had punched him—a fierce, hateful punch with all his strength, knocking him down and staining this privileged old classmate of his with mud from the rural ground. Yet, Hou Zihao hadn’t fought back, despite having the ability to defend himself.

He silently bore the brunt of the other’s anger and grief.

They didn’t meet again until seven years later.

Here and now, at the entrance of the police station.

Yan Lin watched Zhou Leqi and Hou Zihao step out of the taxi together. Their side-by-side appearance easily evoked memories of their school days. However, Hou Zihao was injured, his right arm still in a sling. It was as if disjointed timelines had suddenly merged, making Yan Lin momentarily believe that the injuries Hou Zihao bore now were from seven years ago.

Their eyes met, and both froze for a moment before quickly averting their gazes.

The atmosphere grew slightly tense.

Zhou Leqi quietly observed the two. Since she was unaware that they had met shortly after the incident seven years ago, she couldn’t fully grasp their current states. She could only try to ease the awkwardness by addressing Yan Lin first: “Have you been waiting long? Actually, you don’t need to accompany us. We can file the report ourselves.”

With an opening established, Yan Lin finally found a way to escape the emotional awkwardness. Deliberately avoiding looking at Hou Zihao, he focused on Zhou Leqi and said, “Filing the report is more important. I’ll act as your lawyer and handle the communication. First, give me a brief description of what happened.”

This was excellent, of course. Having a lawyer assist made things much easier. Zhou Leqi felt more reassured and began summarizing the events for Yan Lin. His thinking was clear, and after asking a few key questions, he quickly grasped the situation.

The communication with the police was mostly handled by Yan Lin. He was indeed an outstanding lawyer—meticulous in logic, articulate in speech, and calm under pressure, with the ability to adapt to complex situations. Zhou Leqi’s role was simply to cooperate with him. After completing the statement, she and Hou Zihao went to the small lounge in the station to rest while Yan Lin continued negotiating further details.

At that moment, Hou Zihao was extremely quiet, likely still struggling to process the complex emotions stirred by unexpectedly seeing an old acquaintance. He sat on the chair, his gaze distant, seemingly lost in thought.

Zhou Leqi pursed her lips, wanting to comfort him, but before she could speak, her phone rang. She glanced down and saw the caller ID: “Pei Qiming.”

Hou Zihao noticed it too and immediately snapped out of his daze, his expression turning wary as he closely watched Zhou Leqi answer the call.

Zhou Leqi, overwhelmed with busyness, had completely forgotten that it was Monday and that she was supposed to be at work. She had originally planned to return to Beijing yesterday, but the car accident had delayed her. Worse still, she hadn’t even requested leave, meaning she had skipped work without permission.

Pei Qiming’s call was to ask where she was. Zhou Leqi was extremely embarrassed, her face flushing red as she repeatedly apologized to Pei Qiming, explaining that she was still out of town and had been delayed by some minor issues, so she might not be able to return to Beijing that day.

Pei Qiming, being a very understanding boss, expressed sympathy and concern over the phone. He asked what had happened, but she obviously couldn’t tell the truth, so she vaguely mentioned some personal matters that weren’t serious. Then, mustering her courage, she asked, “Boss Pei, I… Could I take some leave recently? I want to use my annual leave…”

Although she did have unused annual leave, taking time off during such a busy project phase was clearly unreasonable. Everyone else was swamped with work, and here she was planning to rest alone—it was hard to justify.

Pei Qiming fell silent on the other end of the line, seemingly also finding it difficult. After a while, he said, “Well, you’ve been working too hard lately. Take a few days to relax… But are you planning to take the full five working days off, or will you return in a couple of days?”

“I’m not sure,” Zhou Leqi replied hesitantly. “I’ll try to return as soon as possible.”

After a pause, she once again apologized to Pei Qiming: “I’m sorry, Boss Pei. I’ve delayed the project’s progress…”

How could Pei Qiming truly blame her? On the contrary, he consoled her, saying, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out on the company’s end. Focus on resolving your own matters first, and let me know if you need any help.”

She agreed, feeling deeply grateful, and naturally smiled. However, when she hung up and turned her head, she met Hou Zihao’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Was that Pei Qiming?” he asked casually, arms crossed. “I’m not very familiar with the investment banking circle, but are VPs really this idle? Or does he just let others do his work?”

His tone was casual, but his words carried barbs.

Zhou Leqi couldn’t be bothered to respond. She was mentally scolding herself for completely forgetting about work. Seeing her ignore him only fueled his dissatisfaction, prompting him to assert his presence by continuing to criticize Pei Qiming: “I think there’s something off about your classmate. Is he still pursuing you? People in the workplace should know better than to blur boundaries. Is he trying to start an office romance? This is jeopardizing your career—how selfish…”

He could have gone on for an hour.

Zhou Leqi was exasperated. She turned her head and glared at him, snapping, “Why do you talk so much? Can you let me be for a bit?”

He fell silent for a moment, stung by her retort, but unable to let it go, he muttered, “You’re always like this, always siding with him and never with me…”

Now he was complaining about her.

Zhou Leqi rolled her eyes and fired back: “He’s my boss—I naturally side with him. What relationship do we have? Why should I side with you?”

His rebuttal left him speechless, once again reminded of the fact that they had broken up. She wasn’t his girlfriend anymore—he truly had no grounds to demand her favoritism.

But he couldn’t shake his frustration, especially regarding her connection with Pei Qiming. With a hint of self-righteousness, he said, “I admit I have no standing now, and I acknowledge that our current situation is entirely my fault. But over these seven years, I’ve never liked anyone else or been ambiguous with anyone else. You…”

He trailed off, unwilling to escalate the tension further.

Zhou Leqi caught the implication of his accusation and frowned, her tone sharp as she countered: “What do you mean? Who am I being ambiguous with? Are you this irresponsible in relationships and in speech?”

That last sentence hit a nerve. Hou Zihao was left speechless for a long time, torn between feeling justified and feeling wrong. After a prolonged silence, he awkwardly averted his gaze and said softly, “Actually, when I attended a meeting at SWD last time, I noticed it. He still likes you. Your colleagues at the company can all see it—the way they look at you two is strange…”

So he still remembered this.

Zhou Leqi found it amusing and felt a slight sense of satisfaction. Perhaps she still enjoyed seeing him show signs of caring for her—it gave her a sense of security. However, that didn’t mean she would tolerate him. She deliberately provoked him: “Well, that’s fine. He and I are actually quite compatible. Our professions are similar, we understand each other’s experiences, and my mom likes him too. Now that we’re both single, maybe we can give it a try.”

He: “………………”

Rationally, he knew she was intentionally provoking him. She definitely didn’t like Pei Qiming—otherwise, they would have been together seven years ago. But hearing those words still stung. Unable to restrain himself, he said, “You’re not compatible at all. He…”

Before he could elaborate on Pei Qiming’s flaws, Zhou Leqi cut him off: “I think we’re very compatible. I’ve known him for so many years, and he’s never disappeared on me. Isn’t that the ultimate quality in a boyfriend? A lot of people can’t even manage that.”

He: “………………”

Fine.

He would never be able to get over this issue—not in this lifetime, nor the next.

Hou Zihao was left speechless. The atmosphere between them was subtle, tinged with a small argument but also a hint of playful warmth. When Yan Lin approached, he noticed the unusual dynamic between the two. He shook his head inwardly, thinking how absurd it was that these two could still engage in such inappropriate romantic banter, whether before the college entrance exam or now. Was the environment of the police station not solemn enough?

He sighed, walked over, and interrupted their unique little mood, speaking sternly and formally: “Let’s go. Take me to see Luo Siyu.”